


From Outcasts To Legends

by GarbonzoBean66



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Misfits that save the world, Romance, Several different Romances, Smut, Unlikely band of heroes, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15576300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbonzoBean66/pseuds/GarbonzoBean66
Summary: An unlikely band of heroes if ever there was one. A world weary Seeker with a tendency to the sarcastic and cynical, his mage sister of quiet scholarly air come to the aid of their twin half siblings: Dalish Outcasts, a hunter and a mage whose very soul is from a very ancient time no longer within memory, a young sarcastic and assertive surfacer dwarf.Not the kind of group one would expect to find in Thedas, least of all in a Divine Decreed Inquisition but when their very lives are threatened and the Breach threatens to destroy all they know and love, there's no better group to find.These are the stories of the Outcasts Who Saved The World.





	1. Prologue: Of Curses and Indiscretions, Part One: Suledin, Ma Vhenan

**Author's Note:**

> I might fix that summary later but...eh. This particular fic has several OCs and therefore several romances going on. There will also be another "part" of the "series" this will get as i have plenty of one shots/drabbles and such that have yet or do not have a place within the larger story.

**_Part One: Suledin, Ma Vhenan_ **

 

_ Ancient Times _

 

Anguish, grief...such pain he’d never known before plagued his being, leaving an eternal sorrow in his wake with every step. The hole in his heart was so deep, indeed, it pierced his soul. The deepest ache swirling with that of a cold burning...raw. Not even a blade with a jagged edge striking through his chest, twisting into his physical heart could ever hope to compare to the agony he felt as he walked, breathed, as he continued to live while  _ she _ did not.

 

No, it wasn’t just a hole that was left within his heart, his being. Without her, his heart was gone. A heavy sad sigh escaped him as he stepped through the eluvian, exiting into a mountainous area. Looking ahead, blue eyes focused on something in the unseen distance yet holding an unfocused gaze. His legs moved of their own accord, their destination  was without question. His inner struggle held his attention significantly more than the snow covered scenery around him. As beautiful as it had once been...it no longer held any interest for him, not without her.

 

She’d brought such vibrant color and life to his world. Without her here, without her singing, without her overwhelming compassion, her vibrance, the way she saw life… His world was now a dull gray. 

 

He should have never allowed her to leave the castle, to go on such a dangerous mission. Nevermind those he’d sent along to protect and help her, they had done all they could. He should had gone with her. No, he should have anticipated such a trick. He should have known better, suspected that his enemies would go after her, that they would discover just how important to him she had become. Oh and they had. If only he had been smarter, more wary, cautious.  _ She _ might still be alive. But he had not been and she was gone. 

 

Coming to a stop, his vision focused on the expanse of mountain side before him. The faint swirl of design that he had lightly carved on the stone told him he had arrived at his destination. This would be final visit…

 

Reaching out, he placed his bare palm against the door, the words of spell on his lips. A blue and golden light shimmered like a rippling circle moving outward from his hand, bringing the carved designs to life momentarily. The stone facade fell away, revealing a hidden door that slid open silently and effortlessly.

 

The air was sweet within, the scent of crystal grace blooms, it swirled out of the small, empty foyer to him. For a moment, he felt as if the very scent embraced him. He took deep breath...Crystal grace. Those had been her favorite blooms. Emotion threatened to choke him, causing his chest to tighten almost painfully with short breaths as he stepped over the threshold. He blinked furiously, willing away the tears that threatened to drown him. He had made a promise...a promise that he would endure.

 

As he slowly made his way through the foyer and into a much larger room, he ignored everything that adorned it. He’d seen it all several times, this was once a sanctuary of sorts, a library as well as a place of love and peace. Now it held only pain for him, memories of what no longer was, reminders of what he lost and what remained of the woman whose song had stolen his heart so completely, he’d only realized it after it was far too late. 

 

He remembered a time, not all that long ago, when this hall would be ringing with the sound of her voice; singing, laughing or simply speaking. Now the only sound heard was that of his footfalls as he crossed the hall towards a door seemingly painted into the wall. It shimmered at his approach. He spoke only a few words and the ‘door’ opened. Stepping through, he entered into a long, dark. The lack of light mattered not as he knew his way. It was one of the few things he was still certain of. 

 

Moments that seem more like an eternity pass and he stopped at the threshold of the dark hall and a room that was lit that was lit only by candles.his gaze moved around the room, taking in everything that adorned it. 

 

The walls were filled with paintings of bright colors, depicting various things. He’d painted them for her. Crystal grace petals covered the floor around the raised dais in the center of the room. Bouquets of the blooms had been placed around the outside of the dais. A lone wolf carved from wood sat to the side. This room had once had a different purpose, one that never came to fruition. He’d wanted to surprise her. 

 

She never had the chance to see it.

 

The room’s purpose had since changed. His eyes fell, lastly, upon the beautiful silverite urn that rested on the very center of the dais. 

 

It was a tomb now, a shrine. His heart’s final resting place.

 

Slowly, he approached the dais and fell upon his knees. Reaching out, he placed both hands on the urn and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the cool metal.

 

“It is done,” he said in a low voice as he closed his eyes. His voice grated his own ears, sounding like a cracking whip in the tomb’s silence. “What we fought for, the war...it is finally done. I…I only wish you had been-” Emotion surged forward within him, choking off his voice. Sorrow, so deep it would remain with him for the rest of eternity, gripped his heart. His chest felt tight again. His eyes burned behind tight lids. His hands convulsed, gripping the urn tightly.

 

“I...I am so sorry, my heart,” he whispered brokenly.

The silence in the tomb was so loud it defeaned him. Then he...felt more than heard her voice.

 

_ Do not cry. Our love endures. That is what love does. _

 

He felt her then, her presence. Warmth, full of love and light wrapped around him as surely as if she had embraced him. He gasped at the feeling and wished it would never leave.

 

_ Endure, my heart. I love you. _

 

He could do nothing but weep.


	2. Prologue Part Two: A Noble's Indiscretion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Darius Trevelyan makes a promise to his baby sister, Peyton, then later discovers he has other siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the prologue. Just some information on how my Trevelyans and Lavellans are infact related. And naturally i tend to give my characters sad tragic or difficult backstories.

**_Prologue Part Two: A Noble’s Indiscretion_ **

 

_ (The Dragon Age: Ostwick, Free Marches.) _

 

When Amilee Beltharmen became Lady Amilee Trevelyan, Wife to Bann and Knight-Captain Richard Trevelyan, she thought she’d married for love, for she did indeed love the charming Templar. She’d believed, for quite a good many years that he loved her too. 

 

Indeed, it was not hard for her to believe in such a thing for all her life she’d believed in such beautiful fairy tales. Her own parents had loved one another and had continued to do so for decades. Ever since she’d been a little girl, such a fairy tale of love and happily ever after had filled her young heart. It remained strong within her even as she grew up into a noble debutante. Despite all the stories and facts she’d heard of other nobles marrying for riches, status or any other number of political reasons, Amilee had continued to believe that she would marry for love and love only. 

 

It was something she held onto and when Richard Trevelyan, then the Heir to the title of Bann, started courting her, she’d fell hard and fast for him. When their wedding day arrived, she’d believed her fairy tale had come to life. Even when she’d carried their first son, David Trevelyan, she was lost in the euphoria, believing that her dream, for all intents and purposes had become a true and blessed reality. 

 

After she gave birth to their second son, Darius Trevelyan, her reality began to change ever so slowly. Richard started spending more and more time away from home. At first, she’d been too busy raising their two boys to truly be upset over the amount of time he was gone and how each trip was a bit longer than the last. Two years of this, then Richard started drinking himself into stupors. It was all a rather subtle change. She’d never suspected, however, that his eyes, his mind, even his attention were being focused on other women.

 

Not until he came from a trip that had taken him away from her and their sons for nearly a year. She’d been overjoyed with his arrival...he’d humored her. She realized something was different yet even as he ignored their sons and went to straight to their bed, she proceeded to believe her dream. Then he’d come to her in the midst of night, speaking lip service so honeyed and sweet that she bought into every lie. Until, he’d cried out a name. A Name that was not her own. It was then, hearing another woman’s name on her husband’s lips during the throes of love-making, that Amilee realized the fairy tale she’d believed she’d found...had never truly existed.

 

Amilee Trevelyan became a different woman that night and numbed herself to the fact that her dream was gone while she was shackled to a man of indiscretion and lies. A few weeks later, when she discovered she was with child, her demeanor and personality remained cold, aloof. 

 

Nine months of pregnancy, complications and a permanently broken heart took the heaviest toll on her. 

When Peyton Trevelyan was born, Amilee never had the chance to lay eyes upon her only daughter. 

 

The youngest child and only daughter born to the Bann Trevelyan should have been a great joy, a miracle despite the rockiest of pregnancies. Peyton should have been born to tears of happiness, a mother’s warm embrace and a father’s proud grin. As it were, she was met with hushed sadness amid the midwife and servants. Only her brother, Darius, was present. David was ‘too busy with training’ to attend and, as expected, Richard Trevelyan was not even home to hear of the child’s birth, let alone bear witness to his daughter entering the world.

 

The midwife, an elderly Elvhen woman, who had along with the others in the room, born great love for Amilee, cleaned up the babe and with a sad sigh handed the newborn bundle up in an old blanket of Darius’s, to Darius himself. The eight year old lad, conflicted with the grief over his mother’s death, anger at his brother’s indifference, outrage at his father’s absence and joy at having a baby sister, held tightly onto the babe as he wept.

 

“I’ll protect you,” Darius vowed, looked down at his baby sister’s chubby cheeks and wide eyes. “I will. I promise.”

 

It would be a promise, though made by a young boy of eight years, that he could keep at the forefront of his mind for years to come. 

 

Five years later, a young Peyton would come into her magic and accidentally set the kitchen on, much to her father’s ire. His harsh views of mages came to light to Darius, who had long since been ignored often by Richard in favor of David.

 

Angry words ensued, a beating almost given when the thirteen year old boy stood alone between his father and his wide-eyed, terrified baby sister. Yet try as he might, there was only so much a young boy could do. Peyton was hauled off to the Ostwick Circle, the very circle where Richard Trevelyan worked as a Templar Knight-Captain.

 

Darius was determined then, to become a Templar for one reason and one reason only; to protect his baby sister from the worst the Templar order had to offer. The worst being, his own father and brother. 

 

He had to work for it, play to his father’s vanities, pretend to believe that which his father believed. It took him the better of three years but he succeeded. 

 

A few weeks before Darius would take his vigil to become a Templar at the Ostwick Circle, his life would change in many more ways than one. 

 

His brother, his father and himself were at their family estate one evening. A sixteen year-old Darius was wandering the grounds, keeping himself away from his brother and father while lost in thought. He noticed something odd during his wandering. 

 

Two hooded figures were walking along the long road that led up to the mansion. They were weary and shrouded in the setting sun’s shadows. He couldn’t make out details and so, he carefully picked his way across the ground, using the many trees and bushes to hide him. He knew the grounds like the back of his hand, he could track and follow them without giving himself away. 

 

The two hooded figures made their way to the front door of the house. Darius, keeping himself to the trees and bushes, waited. One of his father’s servants, an elderly Elven man by the name of Toby, answered the door. Surprise shot across Toby’s features when he saw the hooded figures. What they said to Toby, Darius could scarcely believe and yet when he saw his father standing in the doorway moments later, telling the ‘wretched knife-ears’ to ‘get lost’ or he’d have them flogged, he was hardly surprised. 

 

The door slammed shut and the two hooded figures turned around.

 

Darius stepped out of the shadows then.

 

A mixture of surprise and weariness played across the tattooed faces of two Dalish elves. The male scowled and reached for something within his cloak while the female blinked at Darius. They both had the same eye color.

 

The same as his brother, his sister and himself. 

 

The same near exact shade of pale teal-green that his father had.

 

Darius held up his hands, showing he had no weapons, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

The male Dalish watched him while he brandished a dagger, “We’ve heard that before, shem.”

 

“No, Amarin,” the female Dalish said, reaching out and placing a hand on Amarin’s shoulder. “Look at his eyes.”

 

Amarin’s scowl seemed to deepen as he did as the female Dalish bid him. 

 

“Means nothing,” Amarin said.

 

“It means quite a lot, actually,” Darius spoke up, slowly letting his arms fall to his sides. He made no other movements, “It means we share the same blood, the same father.”

 

“Perhaps,” Amarin said, his eyes narrowed, he then glanced over his shoulder at the female who was studying Darius. “This changes nothing. He’s probably exactly like that bastard.”

 

Despite the tension in the air, the scowl on Amarin’s face and the fact that any sudden movement might get him killed, Darius couldn’t help but throw back his head and laugh. 

 

“That’s the best joke I’ve ever heard,” Darius said between laughs. The two Dalish elves stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

 

“Forgive me,” Darius chuckled, recovering himself with a cough. “To be quite honest, my father hates me. I don’t buy into his bullshit and I’ve never let him forget it not after what he’s tried to do to my sister.”

 

Amarin, with his scowl still present, seemed to consider what Darius said but then shook his head, “We should be on our way.”

 

“If you feel the need,” Darius said with a nod. “I won’t stop you. I just have one question.”

 

“We owe you nothing, _Shemlen_ ,” Amarin snapped as if automatically.

 

“Amarin,” The female Dalish admonished. “We can answer a question.”

 

“Why did you come here? What did you hope to find?” Darius asked. He’d never dreamed he’d have other siblings. Though given what he’d come to find out about his father over the years since his mother’s death, he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

 

“We...were curious,” the female started to answer. “After what we’ve been through...we...I wanted to find answers, to find our family.”

 

“I told you it was foolish to come here, Sulahn,” Amarin said, his voice was a whisper, harsh and frustrated. “ _Shems_ only care for their own.”

 

“Forgive me but I thought Dalish clans were pretty much a big family,” Darius said, wondering what she meant by ‘what we’ve been through’. “I’ll admit to ignorance on many of your customs but I’ve heard of how Dalish believe their own to be family.”

 

“That is...true,” Sulahn said with a nod. Her eyes went to Amarin who was looking off into the darkening trees. The sun was nearly gone. “For most of them. We...are, um-”

 

“We were cast out of our clan,” Amarin answered, his gaze moving to Darius. His expression was cold and angry.

 

“I’m sorry,” Darius said. “Were you cast out because of my father’s indiscretion?”

 

“Its none of your business,” Amarin snapped. “We’ve dallied long enough, sister. We should leave.”

 

“Alright, I meant no offense,” Darius said, raising his hands into a surrendering gesture. “I just want you to know, that despite my father, I can help you if you need it.”

 

“We need nothing-”

 

“Amarin, stop,” Sulahn interrupted, casting a glare at her brother. “Thank you. I...We’ll be going now.”

 

Darius stepped out of the way and watched as they walked past him. Sulahn looked back over her shoulder at him and he gave her smile. When they were gone from his view, he looked back at the mansion. 

 

He needed to have some words with his father. 


	3. Prologue Part Three: A Shem's Delusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amarin and Sulahn Lavellan are ambushed...and Amarin hears the deluded words of a twisted noble.

****_ (One Year Later, The Wilderness Outside of Ostwick, The Free Marches) _

 

“I still don’t trust him,” Amarin Lavellan said in a disapproving voice to his twin sister who sat across the campfire from him.

 

Sulahn Lavellan looked up from where she was writing on a fresh piece of Vellum procured for them from their...relation, Darius Trevelyan. The fire danced in her eyes and she was giving him a disapproving gaze of her own. He knew he shouldn’t be so...rude in regards to the man but he was still having trouble getting used to the idea that he was, that  _ they _ were half...human. By the Creators, he didn’t really know who or what he was anymore. It had been only a year since they had been cast out of their clan, their home. He was still angry, infuriated as their own people turned their backs on them. He’d been angry to find out their own mother had lied to them all their lives but he hadn’t been all that surprised given how she had treated himself and Sulahn. That was what infuriated him most; the way she blamed them for her misfortune, they way she had treated them as unwanted burdens for years, blamed them for even their father’s failings. The way she’d always play the part outside their aravel but once behind those closed doors….

 

No. If he was honest with himself, that wasn’t what had him in an outrage. It was his father, the rest of their clan that did nothing. That despite what she did, it was they, thirteen year old twins that took the punishment and were cast out. 

 

“If you keep scowling like that,” Sulahn spoke, breaking into his thoughts. “Your face will get stuck that way.”

 

He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, “Sorry.” 

 

“No...I should be the one to say that,” she said, her voice turning sad. “I had never meant to...to hurt her.”

 

“No, but she meant to hurt us, Sulahn,” Amarin said, looking over at her. The sorrowful expression on her face mirrored what he felt beneath his anger. “You were defending yourself...and me.”

 

“I know,” she whispered, looking away and into the dark trees around them. “But knowing that doesn’t change how I feel. I...I always thought that she hated us because I had done something wrong or never did anything right. But that wasn’t it, was it? Not by a long shot.”

 

“No,” Amarin spoke, his voice low as he gazed absently into the fire. “She hated us because of what  _ she  _ did…”

 

“Why is that our fault?” Sulahn asked. It was the one questioned they had been asked themselves for the last year. They had yet to discover the answer. 

 

Amarin sighed heavily, being fourteen years of age certainly wasn’t this hard for any other young Dalish...or human child most likely. 

 

“None of this shit should have happened,” he growled. “But we-” He stopped speaking suddenly as a strange sound caught his attention. His head whirled around to look to his left. There was nothing in the darkness he could discern but he could feel as if eyes were on them.

 

Sulahn must have heard it to as she grabbed her staff.

 

“Put the staff down apostate,” came a commanding voice from the darkness around them. Amarin stood, his hands gone for his bow and arrows.

 

“Don’t even think about it, knife-ear,” the voice spoke again and the sound of a blade being unsheathed cut through the heavy air. “You’re surrounded and haven’t a prayer.”

 

“I’ll show you what I have,” Amarin growled, “Stop hiding in the shadows like the cowardly _shemlen_ you are!”

 

“Mouthy little brat you are,” the voice responded then several Templars in full armor stepped out from behind the trees and into the light of the camp-fire. 

 

“Fenedhis!” Amarin spat as his anger roared through his veins. They should never have trusted that Darius. There was no doubt in his mind who had led the Templars here even he didn’t see the dark-haired shem.

 

“Don’t move!” The Templar directly in front of him ordered. 

 

“Go to the void, shemlen!” Amarin cursed as he dove for his weapons. His bow and arrow would be useless with them so close. His daggers were the better option. 

 

“Amarin, no!” Sulahn called out as he hit the ground, grabbing his daggers mid-roll before coming back up to his feet. Brandishing the silver blades, he ducked an incoming body-shot from a long-sword. He could feel the electricity fly through the air as he weaved out of another incoming hit and into the shadows.

 

“Get the bloody apostate!” A Templar shouted just before bolt of conjured ice was launched through air. He dodged past a tree trunk before lunging toward the first target he saw. His daggers sunk into chain-mail and he heard a pained yelp, dampened by a metal helm just as Sulahn screamed in pain. Amarin’s attention was shattered as his head whirled around to see a Templar roughly descending upon his sister.    
  


Pain exploded along the back of his head and his vision snapped to black. 

  
  


Sometime later, Amarin woke up in pitch darkness with his back on a cold and uneven floor. Pale teal-green eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring up into straight darkness. He blinked then a frown furrowed his brow as he made to push himself up into a sitting position. The very movement sent his head spinning and pain lancing across the back of his head. He groaned involuntarily as he slowed his movements. Bringing up his hand to his head was when he realized he was bound in shackles. Memories of the Templars ambushing him and his sister came rushing back to him. 

 

_ Sulahn! _ He thought and his head shot up, ignoring the throb of pain that caused as he looked around. His Elvhen vision seemed to have cleared up and he could discern shapes through the darkness. He was in a dark, dank cell that had been built into what had once been a cave. There was no sign of Sulahn or even anyone else for that matter.  _ Strange _ , he thought. _ This cell could easily fit groups of people.  _ As it was, he was alone. 

 

Or so he thought. 

 

“Awake then? It’s about time,”  came a gruff and strangely familiar voice from somewhere beyond the cell bars. It was too dark for even for his Elvhen eye sight to help him discern anything  beyond what could have been a silhouette or simple shadows playing tricks with his eyes.

 

Amarin made no move to get up thought he wanted to rage against his captors. He wanted to find his sister and tear into that Darius. No doubt that bastard  had a hand in this. 

 

“You made it rather difficult for my men to find you, you know,” the gruff voice but he couldn’t place it. His eyes narrowed in the voice’s direction. 

 

“Took me and my men three months to track you and the apostate,” the voice continued. “Even lost  your trail more than once. But I do not suffer failure...then imagine my surprise to find evidence that one of my own was aware of you...and he was helping you.”

 

Amarin’s frown deepened. What did that mean? Darius hadn’t turned on him and Sulahn? Or that he was given no choice?

 

“You see...there are rule in the civilized world you heathens know nothing about,” the voice continued sounding bored and indifferent. “And apostates, those harboring them and those aiding or abetting get delt swift and just punishment. As Knight-Commander of the Templar Order is my duty to protect the innocents of the world from Maleficar and those helping them. As a father it is my inherit and sacred duty to protect my family from such disgrace and corruption!” The last few words the voice spoke rose had risen in volume and anger. Amarin realized then exactly who that voice belonged to. He’d heard it only one time before. 

 

Richard Trevelyan...the human man who had seduced or been seduced by his mother all those years ago. The human man who had carried on with the affair for over two years, or so the story had went. The same human man whose indiscretion led to his and Sulahn’s birth and ultimately, their exile from their clan. The very human who had turned them away harshly a year ago…

 

Amarin’s expression grew dark and even as he felt the want to scream at the bastard  _ shemlen _ , he remained silent. 

 

“Not a single word in your own defense, hmm?” Richard asked. “Or is it you can’t understand actual words?”

 

Amarin’s anger grew into a cold, silent fury as he sat on the cell’s dirty floor, his hands shackled while he was forced to listen to every word of this  _ shem’s _ vitriol.

 

“It matters not,” Richard continued. “I simply wanted to give you the courtesy of knowing why you’re going to be executed. It’s possibly all beyond your savage mind to comprehend but I felt perhaps you would have a bit of your mother in you.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint you,  _ shem _ ,” Amarin spoke, his words heavy with scorn. “But I am nothing like my mother…”

 

“Ahh, so the savage does speak,” Richard said, his voice turned cold, cruel even.. “You’re not a disappointment...You are a mistake to be erased, you and your maleficar sister. I will suffer no such half-breeds, there will be no tainted blood to disgrace the Trevelyan name.”

 

With that, Amarin heard more than saw Richard turn and leave. A distant snap of fingers, hushed whispers and gate being opened only to be closed again.

 

He was left with only silence and his own seething fury.


End file.
